


Cold Dead Hands

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Drama, Episode Related, Improv, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-13
Updated: 2005-05-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12083268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian wants Justin taken from him over his cold dead body.Improv #8: bright, magic, violence, cold, silence





	Cold Dead Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

When Brian closes his eyes he'll occasionally see **bright** flashes behind his lids. Bright sparkling lights like he's been staring at the sun or at a light much too long. Brian's figured out that it almost always happens when he is thinking about Justin, or worrying about Justin or fucking pissed off at Justin for whatever reason. 

It's been happening more and more lately. With Justin's recent foray into **violence** and he's stuck in the loft in the **cold** dead **silence** he closes his eyes and the flashes start. 

Justin is lying on the ground blood spilling from his head, while he crouches over him like a fucking idiot. 

Justin is lying in a alley, blood spilling out of a gun shot wound, or he's lying in his casket beautiful and golden. 

That's when Brian gets up from where ever he's sitting or reclining and starts to pace around the loft. 

He's ready, he's so read to chase after Justin and lock him in some kind of cage protected by **magic** or something equally ridiculous. He wears holes into the expensive wooden floors, compulsively flipping channels on the TV, running his cold fingers through his hair, checking the clock. 

Anything but looking at the door and willing it with his mind to open. For Justin to walk in smelling of grease and dirty old customers from the diner. Carrying Styrofoam containers full of food that Brian will bemoan eating. Wearing anything **but** the Pink brigade's incredibly un-threatening outfit. 

He knows, _he knows_ in the back of his mind that no one can take Justin from him. They've tried and failed over and over. It's happened so many times and Justin always comes home, always. 

But this time, he's different. This time he wants to bring Justin home. And as the loft door slides open, he wonders what that means. 

Justin comes to a stop when he sees Brian standing in the middle of the living area, hand in his mouth. 

“What are you doing up?” Justin asks, moving around him to the bedroom, shedding his jacket as he goes. Brian follows him with his eyes only, eyeing him from behind, tracing every new piece of information. “Stop the staring thing. You know that makes me nervous.” 

“It’s why I do it.” That’s a lie, he knows it’s a lie, but he follows Justin’s instructions anyway, sliding his eyes away from Justin as he walks into the bathroom and onto his own chewed nails. 

His hands are cold, and his nails have been bitten down, and he’s disgusted with the state that’s he’s in. 

He needs to stop worrying because Justin will always come home, and if he doesn’t…Well Brian will go after him. Because he doesn’t go after anyone, but he’ll go after Justin.


End file.
